


Crumbling In Your Hips

by thejizzler



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-21 20:11:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14292522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thejizzler/pseuds/thejizzler
Summary: There’s a part of Ed that can’t believe he gets to touch her.





	Crumbling In Your Hips

**Author's Note:**

  * For [themadnutter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/themadnutter/gifts).



There’s a part of Ed that can’t believe he gets to touch her.

_Her_ , Dr. Thompkins, who Ed had quietly revered long before she became Queen of the Narrows and everyone else followed suit. The woman whose presence had been forever marked by sweetly perfumed air, even in the chemical stink of the GCPD morgue. _Lee_ , who’d had a queenly way about her even when slipping on a medical glove or stealing kisses from Jim Gordon in empty hallways when she thought no one was looking (Ed always was).

There’s another part of Ed, louder yet no more forceful, that can’t believe he ever doubted the inevitability of his touching her.

He’d wanted her, from the beginning, her slim long neck and the supple curve of her lower lip. It was toward her innards that his mind had wandered when his usual fantasies of Kristen weren’t enough to drive him over the edge: Lee splayed out beneath him, naked legs spread impossibly wide, his hands all over, searching, inside. _What you want_ , had come that growl scratching at the back of his head, _You can get_ (that voice was right, turns out, as it always was).

It’s somewhere between these two selves that he touches her now, disbelieving and self-satisfied all at once.

Lee is astride him, radiant, half-undressed in black leather pants and a strappy bra, staring down at him with a curious challenge in her eyes. His hands are at her waist, thumbs stroking at her ribcage. He stares back at her, a smirk on his mouth, but wonders which of his halves it is she sees looking up at her.

“Well, Riddler,” Lee says, as if reading his mind. She cocks her head coyly to the side. “You’re our strategist. Is the plan to stare up at me all night?”

Ed ( _Riddler_ ) smiles. He sits up, arms wrapping around her, face dropping into the crook of her neck, sniffing.

So much of her has changed since their shared GCPD days, but that smell has not - sweet, but earthy, like vanilla and sandalwood.

“You smell good enough to eat,” Ed says, a rumble against the curve of her ear.

Before she has a chance to reply (he can hear it in his head as if scripted: _so eat me_ ), he bites down onto her neck, not _quite_ hard enough to draw blood.

Lee gasps, and Ed licks the spot, tongue-tip feeling for the dents his teeth have left.

Her responding moan is soft, and Ed bites down again, eager to pull more out of her. He smiles against her spit-slick skin as his hands work at the clasp of her bra, yanking it down and off as he pulls back to look at what he’s claimed.

The sight of her is overwhelming. The wet bite mark stands stark on her skin, reddened enough to match the shade of scarlet painting her parted lips. Her breasts are bare, rising and falling with each heavy breath, nipples dark and hard.

Clenching his jaw to bite back a moan of his own, Ed raises a hand to her neck, rubbing at the bite, then trails a fingertip down to a hardened nipple, rolling it beneath his finger. Lee makes a contented sound and Ed leans in to kiss her, wet and sloppy, both hands kneading now at her breasts.

Ed pulls back when Lee is worked up enough she’s grinding down against him, dropping his hands down to her leather-clad ass and squeezing. Lee rolls her hips back against him and laughs, lips smudged red.

“What?” Ed asks.

“My lipstick,” Lee responds, smile widening. “It’s rubbed off on you.”

Ed brings a finger to his own mouth and pulls it away to see the tip stained scarlet.

“So it has.”

“Not your worst look,” Lee says, devilish.

Ed responds by flipping her onto her back in one sure, fluid motion, grinning when she gasps.

He rubs his mouth against her hip bone, wiping off the transferred excess of her makeup. The resulting smudge resembles the bite mark still shining on her neck.

“I have no ‘worst looks,’ but regardless, I think it looks better _here_ ,” Ed purrs, finger dragging across the smudge and further, over the exposed skin just above the waistband of her pants.

When his finger reaches the button, he undoes it at last, pulling the zipper down with it.

“Oh, finally,” Lee breathes, the intended mockery betrayed by the sudden reediness in her voice and the spots of color blooming on her cheeks.

In gentle revenge, Ed makes slow work of pulling her skin-tight pants down, then the black lace thong beneath, settling comfortably between her spread legs.

Once she’s fully naked, Ed pauses to consider the sight, new to him (their first and only fuck, up against the Wheel of Misfortune after Ed’s humiliating defeat, had been raw and fast and hard, both only as undressed as physically necessary). She’s _perfect_ , so shapely and exquisite that Ed’s face goes hot.

“Like what you see, Mr. Riddler?” Lee asks, an eyebrow raised and her tone sly.

Ed ducks his head and kisses the insides of her thighs in answer, starting near the knee and moving up, up, up until he can smell her where she’s hotter and sweeter than the perfume on her neck and wrists.

He brings his mouth to the soft skin and trimmed hair of her vulva, feeling her already squirm beneath him. He plants a kiss there, more for himself, in truth, than for her (how the soft, weak Ed of GCPD irrelevance would relish this: _what you want, you can get_ , he hears that old, primal voice urge again).

Lee shifts, legs spreading wider - an unspoken _get on with it, already_.

Ed laughs and cranes his neck to look up at her face. Her eyes are closed, the black painted across her eyelids shining, her bottom lip between her teeth. Sensing his gaze, her eyes flutter open to make contact with Ed’s own - dark in color, but bright in aim. Ed’s grin softens.

“Come on, show me what you’ve got,” Lee says, an unexpected note of desperation in it, “ _Riddler_.”

She says it like she’s saying it for the first time, a reverent surrender not unlike the utterance of it (on Oswald’s tongue, then) that had freed him at last.

Ed ( _Riddler_ ) snarls up at her, breathing hard, and brings his face between her legs, tongue flat and lapping up, bottom to top, slow, and then down, faster this time, Lee gasping. Ed repeats the motion once more, faster yet and harder, then shifts, tongue still soft but circling the sides this time, then back to the middle until he can feel and smell her wetness and he trails his tongue, slow, toward her clit, circling the hood and then pressing down, soft, flicking back and down again, harder.

Lee’s loud now, hips rolling up against Ed’s face. His tongue is insistent, tip peaked and hardened now, lapping without relent, and then she’s crying out, a sound louder and more undignified than he’s ever heard from her, a wet rush against his tongue as the muscles beneath it spasm with her orgasm.

He licks through it, gentler, less concentrated now on her clit but egged on by her continuing cries, the thrash of her legs around him. He lets some time pass before fixating attention anew on that engorged bulb, and feels her nearing peak once more, _Yes - oh god - yes_ , and she’s coming again, convulsing under his mouth.

Ed pauses to look up, chin dripping. Lee looks wrecked, slick with sweat all over, arms thrown up behind her head, streaks of black makeup on her cheeks. She’s breathing hard, in through her nose, out through her mouth, round breasts rising, falling.

She makes a pretty picture, but her eyes are closed still and Ed wants them on him.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he announces, bringing the tip of his pointer finger near her entrance, wet with spit and come.

Her eyes meet his again, heavy-lidded. She gives him a smirk, and that’s all he needs.

He rubs loose, sloppy circles wide around her hole, finger moving further up with each go around, eyes fixed on hers, watching intently for shifts in her expression. He finds with his fingerpad a particularly sensitive fold that makes her break, eyes squeezing shut again as a small exhale leaves her swollen lips. He smiles, victorious, making note of the spot for future exploitation, and concentrating his efforts there, rubbing up and down, pressure increasing until she’s moaning again, bucking up against him. Ed adds a second finger, just beside the next, maintaining the same motion, twofold now. Lee’s breath is racing, her back arching, noises getting more desperate and Ed, unable to resist, pulls back without warning.

Lee looks down at him, eyes on fire, and Ed takes both of his fingers and slips them into his mouth, eyelids fluttering shut as he savors the taste of her, changed slightly by the taste of his own skin.

Lee’s staring at him, open-mouthed, when his eyes open again and he pops his fingers out of his mouth and back onto that spot, rubbing up then sliding down, down, down until he’s at her hole, wiggling his fingertips and then he’s sinking both digits in, slow but steady, the feel of Lee around him velvety and hot and _amazing_.

Ed slides them out to the first knuckle and then back in again, gentle and then rougher on the second thrust, hearing Lee gasp and watching her throw her head back and so thrusting out and in hard again, setting a merciless pace, all the while bringing his other hand to the top of her vulva, feeling for her clit, rubbing there and thrusting in simultaneously.

Lee is crying out, her loudest noises yet, and Ed can hear and feel and see how close she is.

“When you come,” he growls, hands burning, “Call me The Riddler.”

She comes at that as if on command, Ed’s fingers still working inside her when she yells, a shapeless sound at first, and then, as asked: “ _Riddler - oh, Riddler_!”

Smiling (and conscious suddenly of how painfully hard he is), Ed relaxes his hands, not ceasing movement completely but slowing down with the contractions around and under them, more a caress than stimulation.

He pulls out when Lee’s breathing resumes normalcy, resting his chin down on her flat belly, enraptured at the sight of her: naked, debauched, but queenly as she’s ever been.

“So that’s three orgasms in - what? Fifteen minutes?” Lee asks aloud, low, vaguely fiendish.

Ed perks up. He knows where this is going.

“Not bad,” Lee continues, smiling so wide all her teeth show. “But I think you can do better than that.”

“Well,” Ed says, standing up over her and sliding his jacket off. “You know I’m not one to turn down a challenge. I bet you’re right.”

Lee laughs, and Ed falls atop her, lips meeting lips as she works at his buttons with clever, frantic fingers.

Ed breaks the kiss to shrug his shirt off of his shoulders, onto Lee’s bare legs behind him. He watches Lee’s face as he does it, mesmerized by its soft curves and sharp edges.

“You do that a lot,” Lee breathes. “Stare at me.”

Ed can think of nothing to say to that.

“How long have you loved me, Ed?” Lee asks, soft. Her eyes are curious, lacking the subtle malice that’d been flickering in them the first night she kissed him.

Ed remembers: the halls of the GCPD. Dr. Thompkins, sweet-smelling, with kind eyes and a gentle touch that was casual, friendly in a way Ed had never known before her.

“Always,” he says.

It’s a realization as much as it is a confession, and when Lee’s soft lips meet his, he isn’t sure if it’s Ed or The Riddler that kisses back.


End file.
